


In Which a Baby Clone's Fate is Decided

by ClandestineMeeting



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Ardyn Izunia (Mentioned) - Freeform, Cor Leonis (mentioned) - Freeform, Gen, Verstael Besithia (Mentioned) - Freeform, but no one important, well some people die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClandestineMeeting/pseuds/ClandestineMeeting
Summary: And, just like that, Cor has come back to Lucis with a baby. A pale, chubby, strangely sticky little thing, whose eyes roam around the room in an eternal search for something or other from the small crib he occupies. And by all the Astrals (lying bastards that they are) above, Austerus cannot figure out how the mission ended with the newest acquisition.How does one choose who gets a child?





	In Which a Baby Clone's Fate is Decided

**Author's Note:**

> Um, so I haven't written in a long ass time. This is kind of an introduction to an AU I've had in my head for a while. Kind of a fix it kind of thing, wherein Ardyn and Aera had a son about a year before Somnus killed Ardyn. The kid was raised by Somnus, and before Somnus's son (who I named Vocat) was born, he was the heir for a while. Anyway, he's immortal, and decided to become the Warden of Angelgard. It's episode Ardyn compliant, sort of. Definitely Episode Ignis r̶e̶a̶l̶ ̶e̶n̶d̶i̶n̶g̶ verse 2 compliant. Anyway, this guy saves Clarus and Regis, and they go off on their own adventure during the same time Noctis and co. go on theirs.
> 
> I know I'm not a big name in the fandom (or very good), but comments and kudos are very much appreciated. Thanks for taking the time to read this!

             And, just like that, Cor has come back to Lucis with a baby. A pale, chubby, strangely sticky little thing, whose eyes roam around the room in an eternal search for something or other from the small crib he occupies. And by all the Astrals (lying bastards that they are) above, Austerus cannot figure out how the mission ended with the newest acquisition. He vaguely recognizes the voices of Regis and Clarus in the background, but his eyes are glued to the child.

             Besithia’s own twin, if he heard Cor correctly. No, wait, not “twin.” There is another word for it, one that he heard over thirty years ago in another place. “Clone.” That was the word. There are a lot of new words in the world now, a lot of new concepts that Austerus cannot comprehend, because like it or not, sleeping for almost two thousand years did nothing to lengthen his lexicon or strengthen his understanding. There’s no learning, or even soul searching, in unconsciousness.

             The babe doesn’t much look like Verstael. His skin is paler, his eyes bigger, his face…How would he describe the child’s face? Kinder? He’s a child, a babe, no more than a year old at most. Could a child truly be kind? Maybe he is more Innocent? Children certainly were innocent, but the difference between this “clone” and Verstael would just be age then. But maybe that was the most pertinent difference. This child being what it was afforded it, no, him, the ability to be raised to be different. To be kinder, to be happy, to be good.

             “Well, we can find him a family then. Someone to take care of him. Someone who works in the Citadel? We’d be able to keep tabs on the kid that way,” Clarus says, pacing the area from the window to the left-front edge of Regis’s desk.

             “I’ll take him,” Austerus hears himself say. The words sound far away, as if from someone else’s mouth.

             “The boy deserves a normal life, Austerus. Do you even know the first thing about raising a child?” Regis says, not unkindly, but firmly.

             Regis is right of course, Austerus knows nothing about raising a child. Why would he? The youngest person he ever really cared for was his cousin Vocat, and even then Vocat had tutors, caretakers, his father. And Austerus was no more than a child when his cousin was born. So, why did he want this child so badly?

             “I knew Chief Besithia. I could raise the boy to be completely different, to be good,” Austerus pleads, but for what he’s not sure.

             “I don’t see how being a prisoner is the same thing as _knowing_ somebody,” Clarus smirks.

             “It’s not, I grant you. But I have dealt with him in the past, and it would be best for everyone if this child did not turn out the same.”

             “You can’t guarantee that he won’t!”

             “Maybe not! But it’s better than giving him to someone who might not care for him! You said it yourself, if you give him to someone who works in the Citadel, you can keep eyes on him!”

             “Enough,” Regis raises his voice just short of a shout. It is not a question, but a command. “Clarus, it would be best if we could keep an eye on the boy and his development.”

             “Regis, you can’t seriously think that-” Regis hold up a hand to stop his friend from talking.

             “However, as I have said, I do not think we should deprive the boy of a normal childhood. Austerus, if you were to raise the boy, he would simply be forced – likely through a sense of familial obligation – into working for the government, either as a soldier or politician.”

             Regis had a point, Austerus had to concede that. And how he hated to concede anything. His flesh was burning beneath itself, but he did not know whether this was because of his own strange competitive streak, shame at not realizing that the child deserved better than what he could offer, or desperation. Still, what if he could offer the best chance for the boy?

             “I could explain to him-” Austerus said haltingly. Explain what, exactly?

             “Explain what?” Clarus echoed his thoughts. “The choices he could make? Why people will treat him differently, simply because he’s raised in a palace? Or the fact that he will grow old, and you won’t?”

             There it was. The truth behind why they didn’t want to let Austerus take the boy. He was a weapon; he had always been a weapon. Sure, Regis and co. considered him a friend too, but ultimately, he was a jealously guarded secret. Something to call out when facing a tough adversary, as his father had once been. (Later he would wonder about the secrecy. Ardyn must have told the emperor where his wayward son was, who he served, right?) Austerus’s face must have registered some kind of hurt or sadness, because Clarus’s words and accompanying tone were far gentler.

             “Look, we have a few families we already vetted who have been waiting for a while now. They’ve known for a long time they’ve wanted a child, you just decided. Look,” Clarus walks over to a filing cabinet to the right of Regis. “You wanna look through ‘em?”

             Austerus raised his hand to grab the folders, but before doing so, has to make sure it’s alright with Regis. This is his king, and one he respects. He needs his permission. Said permission comes mercifully quickly with a nod of the head and a small smile upon the lips.

             “You could choose the family, if you would like,” Regis softly offers.

             Choose the family? Austerus wants to say that he chooses himself, but obstinacy has always been one of his flaws, one he has recently, as in just in that moment, decided to work upon. He flips through the folders, looking at surnames, hoping one would jump out at him. None do however, but he wants to leave the room having made the decision. He begins thoroughly reading the files.

             First, he looks at careers. Who offers the most security? The best benefits? All six families seem to have fantastic careers which offer a plethora of services and benefits, everything from paid family leave to family health insurance, from abundant paid vacation time to workplace daycare. This does almost nothing to rule any of the families out, but he needs to make a decision. Comparing the benefits, the security, the salaries, he rules out two families. The Faustus and the Sonors. There’s a bit of regret in ruling these two families out, they had been waiting so long, but it’s fleeting and quickly forgotten.

             Second, the housing situations of the families. Who already has children, and therefore would be unable to focus entirely on the boy? The Servitors and the Canticums each have at least one child. He recognizes that the families would be able to provide the child with attention and love, but they need to show the other children in the family attention and love too. He wants the child to not share this with another. Beyond that, these families already have children. They will not be as disappointed to not receive a child at the moment. Or, would they? He’s not sure. Perhaps. Perhaps not. He needs to make a decision, before the end of this meeting.

             How long is the meeting? Does Regis have a council meeting today? Does he need to hold court? His son is likely sleeping. Right? Why not ask Regis to raise the boy? Couldn’t he? His uncle Somnus raised him and Vocat. Couldn’t Regis do the same? He should ask, he should ask, he should ask-

             “Regis,” Austerus starts in desperation. He wants to watch the boy grow.

             “Hmm?” Regis looks up from what he was reading. A report? Doesn’t matter.

             “What if y-” Austerus starts haltingly, before Regis cuts him off.

             “ _I_ cannot take him, Austerus. I’m sorry.”

             “I… Understand,” Austerus sighs.

             But he doesn’t understand. Normal life be damned! He needs to choose, and he chooses himself!

             “Regis, I could- I mean, I would be just as capable-”

             “No, Austerus. Pick a family, or we will. Let the boy be raised away from all this.”

             Austerus swallows. Tears forming in his eyes. Foolish. He knew the answer before he asked. So, why did he ask? It doesn’t matter. He has to choose. The Calamvits and the Argentums. Those are the two that remain. Austerus places a finger on each eye, as if to rub away strain. He hopes he succeeds at fooling his friends, he knows he fails. The Calamvits are older, perhaps too old to have their own biological children. They’re moderately wealthy and live near the palace district. Far enough away to fulfill Regis’ foolish insistence on “normalcy,” but close enough that Austerus could keep an eye on the boy under the guise of simply walking around. But by the time the boy is an adult, his potential parents would be in their 60s or 70s. Would that really be good for the boy?

             That leaves the Argentums. Again, moderately wealthy, but too far away from the palace district to keep an eye on the boy. They’re careers take them out of the city occasionally, but not often, and not for long stretches of time. (Later, when the boy is around ten years old, Austerus will learn differently. Again, he’ll petition for guardianship of the boy, again he’ll be told “no.”) They’re younger, in their late 20s. He knows he needs to pick this family. Their jobs offer the best benefits, the biggest salary, their house is a good size for a small boy, they have no children.

             He picks the family but cannot bring himself to say it out loud. He places, well more accurately, slams the folder onto Regis’s desk and leaves the room quickly. He thinks he hears Regis apologize. He tells himself he doesn’t care. He tells himself it’s for the best. He tells himself the boy would be happier this way. Somehow, he knows he’s wrong.

* * *

 

             It’s been nineteen years, and the boy, Prompto, now almost twenty, is sparing with the prince’s shield. He’s kept an eye on the boy, at times slipping a bit, but it’s still a shock to see him. He looks so much like Besithia, but so different. His eyes are brighter, his skin paler (though covered in freckles), his face kinder, more open.

             Months later, after the fall of Insomnia, when he meets back up with Prince Noctis and his entourage, Regis, Clarus, and Cor in tow, he will notice the sadness in the boy’s eyes. He’ll want to tell him the truth, but he thinks the boy knows nothing about his origins, and he doesn’t want to tell him. And somehow, again, he knows he’s wrong.


End file.
